


Your wings are showing

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 07:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2301833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the blue hued glow of the television as Dean’s eyes adjusted, he could see Cas was pretty beat up. His trench coat hung ripped off one shoulder, the white of his button up stained red and torn, and the shadows Dean kept seeing were Cas’ wings behind him, flicking in and out of sight like static.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your wings are showing

Dean snagged another piece of greasy meat laden pizza from the box sitting open on the motel table. Sam was seated, hunched over his laptop, distractedly nibbling at a slice while he researched. Fuck that. Dean took his piece, and the beer dangling from his fingers, over to one of the beds where he sprawled, flicking through tv channels till he found an old rerun of the Twilight Zone. He didn’t really know what Sam was researching, kid just never gave it a rest. Dean however, was content for a lazy night in and some R&R.

They were between hunts, hiding out in the middle of no where, and sure there was probably some more research they could be doing on the whole apocalypse thing. That was probably what Sam was at. But dammit, Dean thought he deserved a breather from the whole ‘running for your life from dickbag angels that wanna shove their metaphorical fist up your ass and use you like a puppet’ thing he and Sam had going on.

So he ate another slice of pizza, drank another beer, found out there was actually a five hour Twilight Zone marathon on, and settled himself down nice for the night. Course his relaxing night wouldn’t last. They’d been running on fumes from one disaster to another for a pretty goddam long time and he didn’t get more than a few hours to be still anymore.

The second he felt a crackle in the air , Dean had his gun in his hand and his back to the wall. Not that it’d do much against the crazy ass light show that popped up in their room knocking a hole in one wall, crashing against the bed as it broke stupendously and got shredded by whatever the fuck freaky power was snapping out from, fuck was that an angel, fuck that wasn’t just an angel it was Cas.

It was hard to see cause the light bulbs were a lost cause and Cas was strobing light like a thunderstorm. Dean saw Sam across the room, weapon in hand, staring wide eyed at the mess that crashed in their room.

As soon as the apparent melee with the furniture died down and Cas slumped, still, against a wall, Dean shouted. “Cas!”

"Give me a minute."

Dean looked over to Sam but it was too dark to make out much, the only light was the flicker from the tv which hadn’t shattered. Sam was edging around the destruction of the motel room to Dean, eyeing Cas. “Dean give me the keys I’m going to get a few things from the trunk. “

"Yeah, sure."

Passing off the Impala’s keys, Dean tucked his gun in the back of his jeans and eased over to Cas while Sam went after whatever it was he was after.

"Cas?"

"Zachariah. I have to put up wards."

In the blue hued glow of the television as Dean’s eyes adjusted, he could see Cas was pretty beat up. His trench coat hung ripped off one shoulder, the white of his button up stained red and torn, and the shadows Dean kept seeing were Cas’ wings behind him, flicking in and out of sight like static.

"Cas what the fuck - I can see your wings - why are you all bloody - what the fuck happened?"

His questions went unanswered as Cas pushed around him, hands opening his shirt to get at the blood already seeping from his vessel, hurriedly painting the walls in wardings. Sam was back while Cas was finishing making signs on all the walls of the motel. Tossing the car keys on the table that was still standing whole, Sam set up an electric lantern that illuminated the room pretty well, setting down the first aid kit on the table and rummaging through it. “What’s up with your healing Cas? Do you need patched up?”

“I might. Zachariah attempted to cast a spell to bind my grace, I narrowly escaped before he succeeded.”

Dean was pulling Cas closer to the light of the lantern after he had finished his bloody finger painting, hands running over his body to check for injuries, his fingertips knew how to catalogue shallow cuts, cuts needing stitches, broken bones, swollen muscles. “What the fuck do you mean bind your grace, bind it to what?”

“It’s a spell to lock down an angel’s grace, if they are contained in a vessel, the ingredients required are rare, I was not expecting it.”

Dean had Cas’ coat and shirt stripped off, it wasn’t too hard for as torn up as they were. It was however a little hard to work around the massive wings that couldn’t seem to make up their mind if they wanted to be on this plane of existence or not. They were like the black shadows Dean first saw in a barn, a suggestion, passing through some objectsmand knocking others over. Sometimes they seemed to solidify, Dean could feel them, and it was fucking freaky. It wasn’t like some feathery shit, like he would have assumed, it was like passing his hands through running water that gave him an electric shock.

Fucking weird.

But Dean was too worried with the state of Cas’ torso to think too much about it. He was streaked in blood and struggling to breathe regularly.

“What the hell, so if you escaped why is it doing this?”

Sam had disappeared while Dean was checking Cas over, but he came back with a wet towel and started swiping away enough blood to get a better idea of the damage. A lot of the lacerations looked like they were mostly closed, Cas still had some of his juice, but one that cut down from just below his nipple around his ribs was still seeping blood sluggishly.

Sam dried his hands on his pants, picking up a needle from the first aid kit. “Are you going to be able to heal yourself or should I get this stitched up?”

“I…. my power is limited. The spell is a process, Zachariah initiated it before I was aware, so it has had some effect although I am not completely locked down. I’m not certain the extent of grace that has been affected. It may be best if you assisted me Sam.”

Dean pulled Cas back to perch on the end of the one bed still in tact, uncertain if the freaky here then gone thing his wings were doing would play nice with the back of a chair. Sam knelt in front of him while Dean grabbed the lantern to bring closer. Rinsing out the wet towel stained red now, Dean came back and gave Cas another go over while Sam patched up his side.

“How long is this supposed to last for Cas?”

“I don’t know.”

Sam made quick, but efficient work of the stitches. The angel looked a lot better by the end, still smeared and dirty but sitting upright without wobbling. His wings seemed to have settled a little, still corporeal but they weren’t flicking in and out, just draped over the bed behind him shifting like shadows when they twitched.

Sam shifted around some of the rubble of damage in the motel room, half the furniture wrecked and long black streaks like fire damage lining a few sections of the wall. “Is there a way to reverse this? If you know what the spell was I could dig something up.”

“I do know what the spell is however the only thing we can do is wait.”

Dean glanced between Sam and Cas, wiping one hand over his mouth. “You sure about that, there’s gotta be something we can do.”

“If the spell had been completed it would need a counterspell, however it was not. The lingering effects will dissipate with time.”

“Yeah ok, let us know whatever we can do Cas, we’ll keep you holed up in here till you’re back to full power.”

Still looking pained, but more determined and pissed than when he crashed the party, Cas stood, pulling his wings in as they rustled over bedsheets. “Thank you. I’m going to try and clean up.”

Dean and Sam both gave him wide berth as he tottered into the bathroom. There was a lot of bumping and mumbling going on, a tiny motel bathroom probably not the best place for a powered down angel that couldn’t seem to keep his wings in check. Probably going to be more property damage too.

Sam looked around the motel room, one bed torn up, lights blown out, and sighed.

“I think I’m just going to go to a diner if there’s nothing we can really do. This room is not big enough for two grown men and an angel with his wings out.”

“Yeah, shit Sam I didn’t know you could fuck with an angel’s grace like that.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, if he doesn’t recover quickly we’ll figure it out.”

“Sure.”

Sam took off, taking his lap top, tucking his gun in the small of his back under his jacket. Dean scooted some broken things around in the motel room some more, getting himself another beer and draining it. He’d be lying to tell himself he wasn’t worried about Cas, but worry didn’t do anyone any good. Without something to physically do for him, Dean was useless. Like Sam said, they could at least give it a night and if Cas wasn’t powering back up by tomorrow then they could scramble around.

Cas came out of the bathroom still dripping wet, his blood stained slacks clinging to his legs, wings fluttering and puffing behind him. He looked a hell of a lot better without blood smeared all over him, the angry red line of stitched skin on his side clean, a smattering of bruises still livid on his tan skin.

“Fuck man, you sure you’re ok?”

Dean wasn’t convinced by the small nod Cas gave him.

“So, how much of your grace is on lockdown, what’s that even mean?”

“I’m not certain. I can’t seem to control the functioning of my vessel correctly. I do not have full command of my abilities. Things are just not responding.”

Dean could tell that Cas was pissy and worked up, he would be too, so instead of dragging shit out and making a scene about it, Dean just flopped back onto the one good bed and flicked the tv back to the Twilight Zone marathon.

“That sucks. I don’t think you’re going anywhere. Grab a beer man and just chill here for a while.”

Cas was glaring at him, it was still hard to see in the light of the lantern but Dean knew that tight pull in the angel’s face. It all seemed to drain out at once as he deflated and made his way awkwardly around the damaged motel room to sit stiffly next to Dean on the bed.

“You feeling any better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Cas looked around the room and cocked his head.

“Where is Sam?”

“Went out for some food. Just, take it easy for tonight.”

Cas nodded, looking very intent on following Dean’s orders, but he was still sitting cross legged on the bed with his weird ass wings tucked up behind his back, rippling in the flickering tv light and laying on top of the bed behind him instead of through it. Either they were getting more solid and that was a bad sign about Cas being able to pull them back, or they were getting more solid and it was a good sign that Cas could control them. Or something. Fuck if Dean knew. So he decided to slake his curiosity and reached out to touch one again. It didn’t hurt this time, just tingled a little, and his fingers didn’t pass through it like a shadow, just slid over them as they twitched.

“Ah, Dean!”

Castiel twisted away from him and cast a death glare over a shoulder.

“Yeah Cas?”

“Those are very sensitive. I’d appreciate if you didn’t –“

Cas didn’t finish his sentence when he stuttered on a gasp and his back curled liked a cat’s trying to get closer to contact as Dean stroked down one of his wings.

“You’d appreciate what now?”

“Dean.”

“Cas.”

“Dean.”

“That is still my name, and it will be all night.”

Cas snorted and shifted a little closer on the bed. Dean scooted a bit too, fingers swiping over the glide of angel wings that seemed to pulse under his hand. They were warm, and it sent a pleasant shiver up Dean’s arm to touch them.

Maybe he’d had a few too many beers, maybe he was more run thin than he’d thought, but Dean was damn ready to take any comfort he could and the way Cas eventually tipped over and stretched across his lap, wings spreading wide and draping over the both of them, little huffs of contentment and deep rumbles that sounded hilariously like a purr. Well, Sam was never going to find out and Dean was a-ok where this was going.

He turned down the tv and listened to the noises Cas made, chest bare on the Dean’s jeans and arms curled up over his chest as he tucked close onto Dean’s lap. Dean could feel an inappropriate boner coming on, and he wondered if a powered down angel was more susceptible to human temptations.

Then Dean heard the snoring. And he came to the slow, sad realization that his lap was full of snoring angel and a steadily growing wet patch of drool. Cas wasn’t getting off on his wings being played with, it was just making him sleepy.


End file.
